Out here in the fields
by StonesFan
Summary: A scouting mission takes a strange turn.


Daryl Dixon looked through his binoculars and saw a small white-clad figure walking slowly through the long grass in a field below the roadside where he and Aaron had parked. It was wearing a hooded poncho and had what looked like a pack on their back, and a satchel at its side, though as it was covered he couldn't make out what it carried. It didn't walk like it was carrying a heavy load though.

"This is strange as fuck", he said. "Looks like they don't have a care in the world!" He passed the binoculars to Aaron. The other man looked, frowning.

"It's weird all right. Think we should take a look? We are trying to find more people"

"Yeah, but this, I dunno. We don't want crazies. We need people but people that can help." He paused.

He was thinking back to a day ago. They had set up Aaron's parabolic microphone to hear what could be heard and while they hadn't seen anything, he'd heard a thin faint girlish voice first humming tunelessly, then breaking into a song:

"Mama's Little Baby Loves Shortnin, Shortnin, Mama's Little Baby Loves Shortnin Bread"

Though he hadn't said anything to Aaron, it had disturbed him. He hadn't recognized the voice though it brought back memories of when he had been at the Greene farm almost two years ago. Memories he wasn't proud of. And that voice. He had felt its mocking tone. But whoever the singer was, Aaron had said they couldn't see her, so she couldn't see them.

Aaron said: "Do you think that's the one we heard yesterday?"

Daryl started out of his memories and said: "Break out the mic."

Aaron went to the back seat of the car, took out the microphone and set it up. He switched it on. Listened.

"I don't hear anything"

"So they're bein' quiet"

"No, I mean I don't hear anything! No birds, no animals, no walkers, nothing! This thing's dead!" He checked the panel, saw it was in order. Then he looked at the parabola and found the microphone was gone.

"There's no way that could happen!"

"What?"

"The microphone's gone!"

"How could it be just gone? It worked yesterday!"

"I know that! There's no way it could have fallen out!"

Daryl looked back down. The figure was still walking heedlessly through the tall grass of the field, but now he saw it was making toward a large wood down and to the right. Then he saw below the railing three walkers moving aimlessly about. It didn't look like they had noticed either the men above them or the figure walking through the field. He remembered the voice and made a decision.

"We're gonna go after that one", he whispered, pointing downwards.

"Do we take them out or go around?"

"Go around…..back that way." Daryl pointed to the left. "If we go back a bit there's a shallow path down to the field, and we can get around them sumbitches without a sound"

They ran back down the road, and turned down to the field. The grass was tall and they couldn't see the figure they were pursuing. "C'mon, they went this way" said Daryl and he ran through the field, Aaron following. They ran for half a mile. "Look, I can see tracks!"

Aaron could see the bent blades of grass and even the occasional footprint as they ran; it was obvious even to an inexperienced tracker that their quarry wasn't trying to hide. But as they went on he wondered why they still couldn't see their prey. It hadn't seemed as if they had known they were being followed.

They stopped at the edge of the wood. The path ahead descended in a steeper hill than they expected. Daryl signalled a halt as he looked down the slope. He squatted down and scanned the ground, frowning.

"We should have caught up by now"

"They went down that hill"

"Yeah. Look…they're trying to hide their tracks now"

"How?

"They took a branch, swished it around trying to cover their prints….didn't do a very good job either. Let's go down."

"Why would they try to hide right here?"

Daryl shook his head, but before he went down he pulled back the string on his crossbow and inserted an arrow. Aaron, following his lead, pulled his revolver out of his holster and drew his knife.

They descended the steep hill, until they came to a dark clearing. Aaron looked up uneasily: the sun was shining brightly up and behind him through the gaps in the trees. Daryl took a few steps forward, looking at the ground.

"Sheeyit" he said.

"What is it?"

"When we came down that hill they was covering their tracks…I could see that…but now there's nothing! Like no one was here! We been had!"

He stepped forward a few more paces, looking down at the leafy ground. Still he saw no sign. He too looked back at the top of the hill and saw the bright sun. It momentarily blinded him. He rubbed his eyes. "What the fuck!" he said loudly, frustrated as he realized he had fallen into a trap.

"Maybe we better go, Daryl. I don't like the looks of this"

"Yeah, maybe we better…" Daryl was still scanning the ground ahead, looking vainly for a clue when he felt a rush of air close to him and heard an all too familiar sound of a crossbow bolt thud into the tree beside his head.

He froze, realizing that whoever fired that shot could have killed him if they chose.

He turned around, looked up and saw the white hooded figure in front of the sun. He couldn't make out her face, but when she shook her head slightly, dislodging a telltale wisp of blonde hair, he knew who she was. And he saw what was beside her.

It can't be, he thought

"Remember me Mr. Dixon?" she said.


End file.
